Caper To Cambridge
by Shelly Lane
Summary: Ratigan decides to take a vacation so he can temporarily escape everything that upsets him. Disney owns everything. Credits to FairyTales and Pixie Dust.
1. My Great Criminal Brain

**My Great Criminal Brain**

Stop reading this!

I, Professor Padraic Ratigan, the world's greatest criminal mind, do hereby attempt to organize the most intricate mysteries in Mousedom: my own clever ideas. Even a genius has to collect his cunning thoughts from time to time, and he must do it in such a way that his men never once suspect that he's overwhelmed.

The train pulls away from the station, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Soon I will be in Cambridge, arousing Basil's suspicions while taking time to relax simultaneously. Basil will begin an investigation as soon as he hears I've left London, trying to outwit me by arriving at the crime scene before I do. Here's the best part of my plan: I won't even commit any crimes! He'll worry himself sick in vain attempts to figure out my brilliant scheme, and I'll be doing nothing but relaxing in my hotel, or perhaps visiting a few museums-without stealing artifacts like I usually do.

When Basil tires himself out and decides to confront me in Cambridge, I shall sneak back to London. He'll search everywhere, but he won't find any trace of me, especially when some of my men visit Cambridge and commit enough minor offenses to fool Basil into believing I'm still there. While they keep him distracted in Cambridge, London will be mine to sabotage at leisure, and I shall have no opponent ingenious enough to ruin my heists. By the time Basil realizes what I've done and returns to London, the city he loves will be under my control!

He'll hate himself! He'll sink into depression and wonder how he could have been so foolish! By the time he overcomes his pathetic state of melancholy self-pity, I'll be more infamous and feared than Rattila the Hun, Monterey Jack the Ripper, and Genmouse Kahn combined!

That's in the near future. For the present, I shall relax and give my vulpine wit a chance to recover. After the Westminster Massacre, which took three weeks to plan, my great criminal brain is a bit tired. A few days without a felony will be just the thing!

To pass the time, I journal a bit. Writing is an excellent way to get one's thoughts in order.

However, no one must read what I have written. If anyone saw these words and presented them to the police, I would be in quite the predicament.

If you're reading this, return my journal to me at once. I am most displeased that you ignored my blatant order to stop reading these words, but all will be forgiven if you will bring this book to its rightful owner (me) immediately. I know you will do the right thing and read no further.

Know that if you do continue reading, it will greatly upset me.

_You KNOW what happens when someone upsets me!_


	2. Goodbye So Soon

**Goodbye So Soon**

My head was throbbing when I woke up last Tuesday, no doubt from the effects of too much wine. I usually have only one glass, or perhaps two on special occasions, but it had been a rough night. The police had nearly captured five of my men!

A criminal mastermind is judged by a complicated mathematical formula: the ratio of his men apprehended in proportion to the severity of felonies committed. If a mob leader has less than half a dozen men arrested per year, and his gang is guilty of at least three robberies a week and over ten murders a month, his criminal ring is successful. On the other hand, if someone commits two felonies per month and fifteen of his men are arrested in one week, no one will respect him.

Was it just me, or was Basil getting smarter? Curse him! Other detectives could figure out what crimes I had committed, but Basil could deduce my reasoning and logic! He was usually able to guess what I was going to do next, sometimes even before I knew!

The incessant meowing, which interrupted my train of thought, wasn't helping my migraine.

I opened my bedroom window. "Can you at least wait until I have my own breakfast before you start begging for yours?!"

Felicia pouted, trying to make me feel guilty for having overslept after forgetting to feed her last night. She was wasting her time. I haven't felt guilty about _anything_ for years now.

Basil had almost succeeded in sending five of my men to jail, my head was still hurting, and I had an impatient cat waiting outside.

"I hate my life," I muttered as I began fixing breakfast.

No, that wasn't entirely true. My criminal ring was the most successful in the empire, more powerful than any police force or even the military. I had ultimate control of Mousedom's most feared citizens. Leaders of gangs in other parts of the empire feared my name and sent me lavish gifts to pay homage. Even the most vicious brutes trembled at the mention of Professor Padraic Ratigan, and I was paid honor by all felons, even those I had never met. All criminals aspired to be like me, ruthless and unstoppable. In short, I was the envy of all lawbreakers.

I had everything I wanted: fame, money, power, etc. If I wanted something I didn't have, it was mine in less than a week, no matter what it was. One of the crown jewels. A priceless artifact. The end of someone's life. Ten more men to serve me.

In fact, even dealing with Basil wasn't so bad. I could outwit him easily if I thought hard enough, and it was great fun watching him realize that once again, he lacked enough evidence to see me convicted. I especially enjoyed times when he was sure he had precisely what he needed to see me locked away, only to fail due to some minor detail he had overlooked.

Having finished breakfast, I was in much better spirits. Changing into one of my finest suits, I stepped outside to feed the cat.

"Good morning, my angel!" I crooned.

She motioned to the sky to show it was almost noon.

"Alright! I'm sorry I'm late!"

She held out her paw.

"Not a chance!" I argued. "It's bad enough that I apologized to a cat! I'm not kissing your paw!"

Felicia motioned to my cape.

"Yes, I know a true gentleman kisses a lady's hand to show her he's sorry, but I don't have to grovel before you!"

She nodded.

Having no other choice, I gave her paw a quick kiss. I then gave her a bit of extra food to pacify her. That being finished, I went to get some antiseptic for my lips.

I hate that cat! When she was a kitten, she found new ways to try my patience daily, but she'd do as I said. When she was a little older, she was the ideal pet, finally wicked enough to eat live mice but still obeying my every whim. Lately, she's been one trial after the other. I especially hate the look she gets in her eyes. She listens to me and does my bidding since I make sure she's well-fed, but it's like she's suddenly come to the realization that she's nearly three times my size, and she thinks that means she has some sort of power over me. Right now, she still depends on me to meet her needs, so I know she won't do anything rash, but some of the looks she gives me tend to make me a bit unnerved.

Pushing my thoughts aside, I thumbed through an old photo album and noticed a picture of myself as a mere infant clinging to my mother's hands as I walked on a beach for the first time. Even at that age, I was as tall as her waist, for my parents were a smaller species of mouse than I am, as Basil and my henchmen are. (I was adopted.) The back of the picture was labeled "Padraic's First Holiday."

Holiday?! What an excellent idea! A nice vacation was just what I needed! It would be the perfect escape from reality and a certain detective who has made a career of interfering with my plans.

Basil upsets me.


	3. I Am Supreme

**I Am Supreme**

"Good morning, Professor!" Bill greeted as I entered my lair.

Lewis brought me a cigarette, which I smoked silently for a few minutes as I read the newspaper that Fidget handed me.

"Do you think you could handle being on your own for a few days?" I inquired.

"What do you mean, Professor?" Henry asked.

It was too early to reveal my plan. Besides, I had to meet Muricide for lunch.

Have I mentioned how much I hate Muricide? He used to be my rival, but I made him my subordinate. However, his cleverness nearly matches Basil's, only slightly below my own. Muricide seems an obedient henchman, but he's too cunning to be trusted. As a result, I only meet with him when I have no choice. I wouldn't do it at all, but I must keep track of my own employee.

He smiled when he saw me. "Good afternoon, boss."

"Too late for that!" I sat down at the table. "Let's get this over with! Are you happy?"

"I've been content, but…"

I frowned. "But what?!"

"I don't feel like your equal. I feel like you're just letting me plan a few crimes to keep me happy. I don't feel like this is a partnership. Can't I have just a little more…?"

"Muricide, you are the epitome of malicious craftiness, but _I'm _the one who raised the kitten. _She_ is the heir to my criminal ring! When I retire, she will decide everyone's fate, including yours."

He understood my message: I'm the one with the dinner bell, so no matter how shrewd Muricide is, I still have power over him, and although I do have a few favorite employees, my only true partner is the cat who makes me so powerful.

I changed the subject. "Any trouble from Basil?"

"He had his worthless mutt track me for ten blocks!" Muricide complained.

"You shouldn't have been so careless!"

After lunch, I gave Muricide his wages and a few ideas for felonies. I wished him luck and told him I'd see him again in three months.

He was beginning to annoy me, but even though I was over twice his size, he was a worthy opponent for a battle of wits. I couldn't challenge him directly, but he had to leave. The bell would be no help. Muricide probably covered himself with an emetic every morning just in case I ordered Felicia to dispose of him.

A brilliant scheme crossed my mind, a plot that would pit my enemies against each other. If Basil and I worked together, we could send Muricide to jail. My vulpine wit would go unchallenged, thus elevating my status, and Basil's fame would also increase for being the one to capture such a dangerous felon. However, I doubted that Basil would accept my help. I would have to assist him without drawing attention to myself.

My thoughts turned to Muricide. As his boss, could I afford to have him behind bars? Would I lose respect? What would the other criminals say?

They'd say that Ratigan was smarter than Muricide. My adversary would soon be locked away, and I had yet to see the inside of a cell. Besides, someone I used to know once told me that detectives earn respect; criminals instill fear. What did I care if anyone respected me? All I required was obedience.

I'd plan the arrest later. I had other worries at the moment. Before it got too much later in the day, I had to feed Felicia-again!

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!"

She gave me a blank stare.

"Time for lunch!"

That got her to move. She followed me to the park, hiding as I began to scatter bird seed. When the birds came to eat what I offered, Felicia sprang into action. Seven birds later, she was still hungry. Since the birds were getting wary, I grabbed the first mouse I saw, an old man.

"Will this satisfy you?" I sighed.

Felicia shook her head.

Adolescents! They're always hungry, but they're picky eaters. They have no time for you unless it's to show their newest attitude problem or they want a favor. Then there's the level of appreciation they show for all you do for them: little or none. When you try to show them affection, they act like they've forgotten that you even exist.

In a desperate attempt to mollify my spoiled pet, I found a younger mouse.

"How's this?!" I demanded brusquely.

Felicia poked the mouse to make sure he was more muscle than fat. Satisfied, she nodded and finished her lunch.

"Are you full yet?" I inquired.

She nodded again.

"Aren't you going to thank me for finding lunch for you?"

The cat belched.

Rude creature! I don't know what sickened me more, her lack of gratitude or her appalling manners!

"You forget that without me, you are nothing!" I scolded. "I raised you! Don't think you'd have a better life anywhere else! No human would ever want you! Without me, you would be a stray, eating garbage and being attacked by vicious dogs! Is that what you want?!"

She lowered her head in shame.

"Don't I feed you well? Don't I give you affection?"

Felicia stared at me, as if unsure how to answer.

"Think of the way I've treated you! Do you honestly think you deserve that?!"

She shook her head rapidly.

At last! Something we both agreed on!

"See that you remember you don't deserve anything I've done for you! Not a thing! You don't deserve an owner like me!"

A strange look came into the cat's eyes, as if she had somehow twisted what I said to suit her own purposes, but I couldn't see how.

"Do you hear me?! You don't deserve any of this!"

The cat nodded, but I thought I saw a very slight trace of a smirk cross her face, as if she were coming to another realization. Brainless miscreant!

While Felicia napped, I held a conference with my favorite henchmen: Fidget, Bill, Henry, Robert, Lewis, Virtue, and Tirade. (Bartholomew is also one of my favorites, but ever since he turned to alcoholism, he's proven useless when it comes to holding intelligent conversation.)

"Have there been any problems among my other employees?" I began. "Are they happy? There haven't been any disputes about wages, status, or duties, have there?"

"No problems, boss." Fidget cackled. "They're happy. No trouble at all."

During these daily meetings, we usually discuss ideas for the next crime, what we plan to do if the police discover us, how we think is the best way to get Basil off our case, whether or not my other men are doing their jobs, etc. However, this time I made the announcement that I would be leaving for a few days. I told them my plans for my visit to Cambridge.

"Clever plan, sir!" Bill complimented.

"Right!" agreed Henry. "All the best!"

"And don't worry about a thing while you're gone!" Lewis added. "We'll make sure we do exactly what we would if you were still here, and nothing at all will go wrong!"

"Of course it won't!" I retorted, holding up the bell to ensure they got the message.

"It will be like you never left!" Robert assured me.

I turned to Virtue. "You dislike felonies. Make sure no one are commits any in my absence! It would upset me if I returned and found the police waiting at my lair!"

"No felonies while you're gone," Virtue replied.

(He's never committed a felony in his entire life, and he disapproves of those who do, even though he knows better than to voice his opinions aloud.)

"Make sure you all behave!" I joked. "If anyone breaks any of my rules, Tirade will be sure to tell me!"

The other's chuckled. (Tirade's a mute.)

After the meeting, I had my supper and gave Felicia hers. I ordinarily have an event planned every evening (a crime, preparations for my next project, a party, etc.) to keep my men occupied, but I gave them the rest of the night off and went to bed early. I had to get some rest so I could plot Muricide's apprehension. I cannot tolerate rivalry, even if it is unintentional!

Muricide upsets me.


	4. An Even Grimmer Plot

**An Even Grimmer Plot**

"I have a special job for you tonight," I stated the next morning.

"Yes, Professor?"

I set down the cigarette that Bill had given me. "Burn the police station to the ground. I don't want to hear about any evidence suggesting you were the culprits; however, I want you to leave behind this glove."

"It looks like Muricide's," Lewis commented.

"Precisely! Robert, you are about the same height and weight as Muricide. You will be the only one to get within twenty feet of the police station. Make sure you put on these shoes; they're the same type Muricide always wears. I don't want Basil thinking three mice and a lizard are the culprits. If he sees any footprints, I want them to be compatible with the theory that Muricide is guilty, a theory that will be proven when Basil sees this glove."

"What are the rest of us to do while Robert starts the fire?" Henry queried.

I explained my plan.

Insomnia overtook me that evening. What if those idiots ruined everything? I couldn't win! A brainless henchman leaves behind clues, but an intelligent one rivals my intellect! Was there anyone in between the two extremes?

Looking out my window, I saw an orange glow in the distance. The fire was successful, but what if my men were proven guilty? Surely Basil would be called on the case, just as I was hoping he would be, but I wondered if I had underestimated him. Could he see through my plan?

What if Muricide found out I had framed him? He'd be furious! He had to rot in jail without realizing who had sent him there! Otherwise…

I didn't even want to think about what would happen otherwise!

Rain?! I hoped the rain wouldn't be enough to extinguish the flames!

Felicia meowed piteously as the rain fell. She's slept outside ever since she became my pet, but she still complains every time there's the slightest amount of precipitation. After all these years, one would think she'd have learned to deal with it, but rainstorms always make her act as if the world is ending.

Don't look at me like that! I'm not the only one who makes my pet sleep outside in the rain!

I really do love her. She frustrates me daily with her exasperating antics, she never shows me any affection or appreciation, and she's the typical cat: lazy, unintelligent, hideous, voracious, etc. Even with all that being said, she is the reason I have become the most infamous criminal in Mousedom, and she has made immeasurable progress becoming as iniquitous as I am. (When she was a kitten, I feared she would never allow her heart to become as cold and dark as winter solstice, but she finally did!) Without her, I wouldn't be able to commit murder so easily. She is the key to my power and the secret to my success, and for that reason, I do care about her. In fact, she is the only thing I care about. That's why I have been the perfect pet owner ever since she was a kitten. I have treated her as I would my own daughter.

However, I've often wondered how she feels about me. She cowered before me when she was younger. (I can't understand why! I've shown her nothing but compassion, and she's had only the finest care!) She listens to me, but I get the feeling she obeys as a trained response rather than out of desire to please me. She allows me to fuss over her, and she seems to enjoy it, but she never tries to rub against me or anything else that cats do to show love.

Ingrate! Why does she treat me with such indifference?! Have I ever treated her that way? I'll never be able to understand that cat!

Felicia upsets me.


	5. That Insufferable Pipsqueak

**That Insufferable Pipsqueak**

I was returning home with a few groceries when I felt slight pressure on the tip of my tail.

"Watch your feet, you imbecile!" I exclaimed, jerking my tail out of the way as I turned to see who had been so clumsy. "Basil!"

"How careless of me," he remarked nonchalantly. "I have an announcement for you."

"Do you always purposely step on someone when you have an announcement?!"

As usual, he ignored me. "I've outwitted you. Your favorite henchman was taken into custody this morning."

_Yes! It worked!_

I pretended to be taken aback. "What?! How could you have captured one of my men?!"

"It was elementary."

I crossed my arms. "On what charge?!"

"Arson! He burned down the police station, causing three distinguished officers to lose their lives! He nearly escaped, but when I was asked to take the case, I noticed his glove at the crime scene!"

Being unable to hide my smile, I covered my face with my hands.

I pretended to moan. "Who was it?"

"Muricide!" Basil exclaimed triumphantly, pleased with himself for having seen to the imprisonment of such an ingenious criminal.

_PERFECT!_

"Mark my words, Ratigan," he continued, "I shall have at least two more of your men before the end of the week!"

I patted his head condescendingly. "You had a lucky break, sleuth, but don't get too overconfident. Do you think one of my employees will invite you to my lair, show you evidence you can use to convict him, and beg to be arrested?"

His baleful lower was priceless. Taking it as encouragement, I continued my sarcasm.

"Perhaps you can hire Felicia to bring my men to justice! I'm sure she and Toby would work well together!"

"The day will come when you are given precisely what you deserve," Basil replied, "and when that day comes…!"

"What about it?"

He silently glared at me.

"I'm rather disappointed in you, Basil. You nearly had a stinging retort!" I sighed. "I should have expected nothing less. You always did give up too easily." I touched the brim of my hat. "Good day, Detective."

When he didn't respond, I removed his hat, pushed his head slightly forward as if in a respectful nod, and answered for him in my best imitation of his voice, "Good day, Professor."

Oh, he hated that! I could tell! When I reached the end of the block, I turned around to see if my adversary had moved. Still fuming, Basil was in the same spot where I had left him, so I waved. He didn't wave back.

Muricide was in jail, and Basil was off my case. I was ready for my holiday.

I spent that night packing my bags, and the next morning, I made a long speech to my men, reminding them of the rules and telling them when to expect my return.

"Do not forget to feed Felicia!" I warned. "Forgetfulness upsets me."


	6. A Marvelous Performance

**A Marvelous Performance**

Yesterday I began my journal on the train as I was leaving London. I arrived at my hotel, took a few minutes to unpack my luggage, and stepped outside to find some form of entertainment.

"Professor Ratigan!" a voice exclaimed.

I turned to the mouse who had spoken. "Madame, I am not Professor Ratigan."

"But you look just like him!"

Putting my hand into my pocket, I pulled out a few shillings. "Madame, I don't believe you understand my meaning." I placed the money into her hand. "I am a respectable gentleman on holiday. I am _not_ Professor Ratigan."

She nodded. "It's a real pity! I think it's amazing the way Ratti annoys Basil!"

I frowned. "Ratti?!"

"Oh, it's my nickname for him!" The mouse threw her arms around me. "I can't believe it's you! I love your stuff!"

"Stuff?!"

"You know, your ideas! I mean _Ratigan's_ ideas! I'm not a criminal or anything, but I've read about Basil in the newspapers, and he seems like an egotistical narcissist, so I admire anyone who pesters him."

"Release my kneecaps! They strongly object to being embraced by awestruck sentimentality."

She stopped hugging me. "I admire you rats! You're stronger, smarter, and more agile than we mice are! I wish I was a rat!"

I was about to show her what I do when someone insults me, but I remembered that I was on holiday.

"Have you lived in Cambridge your entire life?" I inquired.

"Yes, Professor."

"I am NOT the professor!" I cleared my throat. "I need a tour guide. Can you find me one?"

The mouse rubbed her hands together and squealed excitedly. "I'll show you around the city!"

I sighed. "Very well!" I held out more money. "I expect to see the finest museums, dine at only the best restaurants, and attend a theatrical event this evening. I will pay for everything, and what I'm holding now will be for your trouble; however, if you upset me, the deal is off."

"Does this mean you won't sing me a song or laugh for me?"

"Why would I do that?!"

"You have the best singing voice, and I've heard some of my neighbors talk about the way you laugh, and I think…"

"If I agree to it, will you stop making ludicrous demands?!"

She smiled. "Of course!"

"Very well."

Making sure no one else could hear, I softly sang for her, ending with a peal of evil laughter.

"Satisfied?!" I demanded.

"That was epic!" she answered.

"Now may I have my grand tour of Cambridge?!"

"Yes, Professor!"

"Stop calling me that! I don't wish to be recognized!"

"What should I call you?"

Seeing someone selling newspapers, I purchased one. One of the headlines was about the price of food being higher than normal due to some unfortunate event or the other. Scanning the article, I finally settled on a name.

"You may call me 'Mr. Price,'" I told her. "And you are?"

"Faye!"

This Faye seemed to enjoy aggravating me, but she proved to be a knowledgeable guide. She showed me everything I had requested.

By a strange coincidence, the theatrical performance we attended was about criminals. The protagonist was a wealthy gentleman who adopted an orphan and educated her in the way of felons, teaching her to reason as they did. The orphan learned so well that when she became an adult, she committed the ultimate form of treason, murdering the protagonist after one of his schemes went awry and nearly cost her life; however, she recovered from her wounds and joined a detective agency.

The audience cheered and applauded at this point, but I shuddered. How could the orphan turn on the protagonist like that after he had raised her and taught her a trade? I admit the imbecile shouldn't have lost his temper or mistreated his adopted daughter half as often as he did, but that was no excuse for her betrayal, even if it was indirectly his fault that she almost died!

Then again, the fool deserved what he got. You can't mistreat someone, teach them to be a criminal, and expect to survive. Eventually, your "student" is going to have the logic of a true felon, and then reality will bite you in…The point is that you die. Training someone to be any sort of lawbreaker, especially a killer, is both dangerous and foolhardy, for if the one you trained has anything against you, revenge is inevitable.

"They're only actors!" I silently reminded myself.

To avoid suspicion, I applauded as loudly as the other audience members. (After all, how would it have looked if I had been the only one not cheering when a criminal met his demise?)

As I lowered my arms after my round of applause, my hand accidentally brushed against the bulge in my pocket, my dinner bell. I smiled as I thought of Felicia. My men better have remembered to feed her, or as soon as I returned home, I'd have their heads-literally! It was strange. In London, the constant demands and meows vexed me to no end, but now, for some reason I couldn't explain, I was beginning to miss them. I made a mental note to buy halibut before I left Cambridge, a tasty treat for my darling cat.

Was there a better souvenir that wasn't edible? I'd have to consider the matter. Perhaps a new bow for her hair.

"Did you enjoy the performance, Mr. Price?"

Having been lost to my thoughts, I was startled by the voice. Who was Mr. Price? Oh, yes! It was the name I was using to avoid having everyone in Cambridge know that the world's greatest criminal mind was among them.

"Yes, Faye," I responded. "Did you?"

"I felt sorry for him," she answered. "The poor man needed hugs! He wasn't really evil, you know. He was just misunderstood."

Faye's solution to every problem in the world seemed to be hugging everyone involved.

"He should have lived!" she continued.

I handed her fifty pounds and thanked her for being my guide. We then parted ways.

As I attempted to find a comfortable position on the pallet that the hotel was pretending was a mattress, I thought of my own illustrious career. If something were to happen to me, what would Felicia do? Would she be ready to stake her claim as my heiress, or would she become a stray? If I had a dying wish, would she do her best to fulfill it, or would she ignore me the way she usually does? Would I be alone on my deathbed, or would she allow me the pleasure of dying in her arms?

Tormented by these thoughts, I finally reached a conclusion: Theater upsets me.


	7. No Further Interruptions

**No Further Interruptions**

If I live to be a hundred years old, I shall never forget the dream I had last night, for it was the worst of all nightmares!

In my dream, I saw my men at our lair. They were entertaining a stranger, who had an insufferable grin on his smug face.

"I'm at your lair, and you don't know it," he told me.

"GET OUT!" I ordered.

"I too am a criminal. More specifically, I am a thief. See what I have stolen from you?!"

When I woke up, the first hint of dawn was tinting the sky. I could stand no more. I had to return home and make sure my lair had not been robbed during my absence.

The train should arrive in London in about five minutes. As soon as I am home, I will ask Fidget to tell me everything that has happened in my absence. (He couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it.) I'm sure I'm just being paranoid. What could possibly have gone wrong while I was gone?

As the train pulls into the station, I remove the bell from my pocket. I'm sure nothing has gone wrong, but I'm ready to punish anyone who may have upset me.


End file.
